


Djinn

by HephaistionsThighs



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blood, Blood Loss, Hallucinations, M/M, SHEITH - Freeform, Self-Worth Issues, Shiro deserves a break, but he's not getting one on my watch., venipuncture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-26 07:34:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12552404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HephaistionsThighs/pseuds/HephaistionsThighs
Summary: Shiro turned his face from side to side slowly, eyeing his reflection.  What was missing?  Nothing.  Nothing.  This is what his face should look like.





	Djinn

 

 

.

 

 

Out of the fear and shadows, Shiro could feel himself rising to consciousness.  Just a little more, a little longer… His eyes snapped open.  Quickly, his nightmare faded.  He couldn’t even remember what it was about.  Watching the gauzy silhouette of leaves play through the sunlight on his ceiling, he felt much better.

 

He was very comfortable, and could have stayed in bed for another hour, but he had something worth getting up for.

 

 

.

 

 

Once inside the gym, he was stretching when he noticed a nick on his right hand.  He didn’t remember where it came from, but it was tiny - it could have been anything.  He thumbed over the little red dent.  Shrugging, he finished warming up and had begun wrapping his hands when his reason for being here arrived.

 

Keith beamed at him.  “Hey Shiro.”  He wondered if anyone else ever got to see Keith _beam_.

 

Shiro returned the smile.  He once asked Keith how he was able to get into the officer gymnasium without an officer key card, but he’d learned long ago that Keith didn’t really acknowledge locks.  He only respected authority as far as he absolutely had to.  He was likely able to earn his black belt through stubbornness and natural talent alone.

 

Which is what brought them to this gym twice a week.  Shiro never went beyond the basic hand-to-hand the Garrison required before Keith came along.  Five inches shorter than him and at least fifty pounds lighter, Keith was whipping Shiro into fighting shape.  Shiro had no real reason to need to know how to fight, but it was an excuse to spend time with Keith, and he’d take as many of those as he could get.

 

It didn’t take Keith long to warm up - less of him needing warming, Shiro thought with a smirk.  Scrawny and sharp.  Instead of wrapping his hands, he put on lightweight gloves - a gift from the taller boy for his birthday.  They practiced forms, then took turns holding the pad for each other for striking drills.  Last but not least, sparring.

 

The first round went how they usually did - Shiro was getting better every week, but so was Keith.  He was too fast and he used Shiro’s heavier weight against him.  After being thrown three times, “I surrender!”

 

Keith offered him a hand up, which he accepted.  “Your ambidexterity is _cheating_ ,” he huffed.  He’d fallen into that trap just before meeting the mat again.

 

“I have to cheat.  You’re going to be better than me soon,” Keith said, teasing and earnest at once.

 

Shiro rolled his eyes, pushing dark bangs off his forehead.  “I don’t think you’re in danger of that happening.”

 

“I’m serious,” Keith insisted, “I can tell you have the potential to be a great fighter.”

 

Shiro smiled but turned his eyes to the floor.  Keith could probably still see his blush, but he’d do what he could to hide it.

 

They got some water, then squared up again.  Shiro took a breath, and focused.

 

This time, it was over fast.  Shiro had Keith knocked on his back and pinned in under a minute.  He didn’t use enough strength to hurt him, but enough to control him.  Hands on his wrists, crouched on his thighs to keep him from flipping them.  Forearm over his throat, just hovering, showing the ability to force a yield if this were something other than practice.  Keith didn’t even fight the hold, staring up at him in shock.

 

“Where did that come from?”  Dark eyes, hints of violet, amazed but still not afraid.  Keith trusted him, even when Shiro did something he shouldn’t have been able to.

 

Shiro took the arm away from his neck, but didn’t completely get off of him.  “I… don’t know,” he answered honestly.  _Something other than practice_.

 

He was lost in Keith’s eyes for another moment before snapping out of it.  “I’m sorry!”  He backed off him and stood, helping him up as well.  “Sorry, I’m sorry…”  He wasn’t sure if he was mainly apologizing for sitting on his friend longer than necessary or for doing something so unexpected.  Whichever, it felt like something dark had momentarily encroached on the scene.

 

Back on his feet, Keith put a hand on Shiro’s shoulder.  “It’s okay,” he assured him.

 

 

.

 

 

Keith left to catch breakfast in the dining hall while he still could and Shiro headed to the showers.  Unwrapping his hands with automatic movements, he was about to toss the strips away when he glanced down and saw blood.  Not a lot, just a spot.

 

“Hm.”  He turned his right hand; the cut had gotten bigger.

 

He rubbed his thumb over it again.  It must have been aggravated by the exercise.  They may have to put his martial arts training on hold for a few days, let it close up completely.  A consideration for later.

 

In the shower, the running water and soap hurt the little cut.  It didn’t sting the way he would have expected, it just felt… weird.  He opened and closed his hand and for moment it all felt strange.  But it quickly passed and he went back to enjoying the hot water.

 

 

.

 

 

He made his way to mission training with plenty of time to spare.  He took in the trees, the grass, the sky.  The Sun was warm on his skin and it felt like ages since he’d been able to enjoy that.  He stopped and tilted his face up, closing his eyes.

 

“Hey, that’s Shiro,” he heard someone say.  It was meant as a whisper but loud with excitement.

 

He looked over to see a couple of cadets staring at him.  They looked embarrassed to be caught gawking, so he smiled to reassure them.  No offense taken.  They smiled back and gave a slight wave before hurrying off.

 

He was something of a celebrity - a Garrison favorite who had only just graduated to the rank of Officer, now officially chosen to pilot the deepest manned space mission in human history.  These scientific outings to small rocky objects were relatively commonplace now, but it was still an enormous honor.  For someone so young to go so far was gossip-worthy news.  The two cadets weren’t the only ones to pay Shiro attention that morning, and he found he really didn’t mind.

 

 

.

 

 

A party was being thrown to celebrate the official Kerberos crew selection.  Shiro had his uniform pressed and ready in advance, but he was taking longer at his mirror than usual.  He ran the comb through his forelock again.  It still didn’t look right.  Maybe it was time to get rid of it?  The style was allowed, and he liked being able to keep his personality in his appearance, but it might benefit him to commit to a more conservative cut.

 

He shook his head.  Not tonight, anyway.  He was about to meet everyone who could potentially impact his career for the next decade, now was not the time to make a dramatic hair change on impulse.  He made one or two more attempts to make it look right, then forced himself to stop.  It was fine.  It was perfect.

 

He turned his face from side to side slowly, eyeing his reflection.  He wasn’t broken out - thank goodness - he’d slept plenty, he’d washed… he looked great.  What was missing?  Nothing.  Nothing.  This is what his face should look like.

 

His hand gave a sharp twinge.

 

“Shit…”  Examining it, the cut looked even bigger.  How was that possible?  He hadn’t done anything that should have made it worse.  He quickly slapped a flesh-tone bandage over it and tried to ignore it.

 

 

.

 

 

He found Keith loitering outside the party venue.  He was on the list, but likely didn’t feel comfortable going in on his own.  Shiro was glad he was the first person he saw that night.

 

“Keith!”  He grabbed his shoulder and took in the suit he’d rented.  “You’re wearing something that actually fits!”

 

The younger man rolled his eyes at that, then nodded at Shiro’s formal uniform.  “Boss threads, _sir_.”

 

Shiro smiled and attempted to tuck Keith’s hair back behind his ears, ignoring the other’s annoyance at his fussing.  “Couldn’t find anything to control this mess?”  He always knew that was a lost cause; Keith knowledge of styling products was equal to his desire to look presentable - functionally zero.

 

Iverson was the first person they encountered once inside, and Shiro stopped briefly to greet him.  “Commander.”

 

He didn’t look pleased at Shiro’s choice of + one, but made no comment.  He was Keith’s instructor, and while he agreed the cadet had great talent, he wasn’t the fan of him Shiro was.

 

This problem of Keith’s was part of the point in bringing him to this event.  Every ranking individual of consideration within the Garrison was in attendance, as well as major donors and civilian contractors.  It was important for Keith to meet people like this and start getting the decision makers on his side.  Shiro had to make him understand that he needed to be liked if he wanted to be the best pilot.  He was already as good or better at flying than Shiro was, but that was only half of what success in the Garrison took.

 

The other point in bringing Keith was simply that Shiro wanted him here.  This was the high point of his entire life to date; who else would he rather spend it with?

 

The faces and names and conversations with all those important people seemed to pass in a blur.  They mattered to Shiro because they would help shape his future, and yet somehow they simultaneously didn’t matter to him at all.  A few hours later found him back outside with Keith.  They weren’t leaving yet, just taking a break.

 

Shiro looked up at the stars.  They looked so bright, better than they should have from within the city’s light pollution.  He glanced over at Keith, expecting him to also be gazing up, but he wasn’t.  He was looking at Shiro and he looked beautiful.  Starlight had always suited him.  He was there just for Shiro and he was happy, just for Shiro.

 

Shiro was happy too.  He’d only had a single glass of champagne, but he felt a sort of tipsiness from all the pleasant emotions.  Everything here felt good and safe.

 

“I wish I could stay here forever.”  He looked back to the stars.  Distant as ever, but their cold light seeped into his warm feeling.  The empty space between them felt oppressive, even safely within Earth’s atmosphere.  “I wish I… didn’t have to go.”

 

“You don’t have to.”

 

Shiro was surprised to hear him say that.

 

Keith reached over to take his hand.  “I mean it, Shiro.  You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.  You can stay here.  With me.”

 

Shiro’s heart beat its wings in his chest, but he didn’t know what to say.

 

Keith looked down, ashamed of what he had to say next but unable to keep from saying it.  “I think you know, I don’t really want you to go.  I said I did, but only because - _SHIRO!_ \- I wanted what was best for you.”

 

Surprise made Shiro jerk back.  It sounded like Keith had shouted his name in the middle of his sentence.  It didn’t look like he had and it hadn’t been loud, but he could have sworn he heard it.  Keith looked up at him, waiting for his answer.  _“Shiro!”_ echoed again.

 

The urgency of the phantom call stirred up Shiro’s own urgent feelings.  He had to do this now.  Soon he’d be gone in space, and he wouldn’t see Keith for a year, and everything would be different and wrong.  No, not everything.  Just him.  “Can I kiss you?”

 

He saw Keith’s intake of breath at the request, followed by a silent nod of assent.  Shiro leaned down and gently tilted the other’s chin up, meeting his lips in a soft kiss.  Brief; it couldn’t have been as good as the real thing, but Shiro had wanted it so badly.

 

“Tonight was perfect.”

 

Keith’s grip on his right hand tightened, digging into the cut.  Blood soaked through the bandage.  _“You have to snap out of it!”_   In an instant, the grip was gone, Keith was holding his hand gently, lovingly.

 

“I wish I’d told you.  You mean so much to me, Keith.  I wish I’d told you tonight.”

 

“I know, Shiro.  _WAKE UP._   It’s okay.”

 

“You deserved to know before… before I changed.  Before I stopped being this person.”

 

_“Please, Shiro, please.  I need you to wake up.”_

 

“Keith, I lov-”

 

 

.

 

 

Back to pain.  Back to the cold hard surface of some stinking planet he couldn’t even recall the name of.

 

Keith was leaning over him, looking terrified.  There were tears in his eyes.

 

Shiro raised his right hand - metal, alien - and covered Keith’s cheek.  He opened his mouth to ask him what was wrong, but a short scream came out instead.  Burning agony stabbed through his left arm from elbow to shoulder and he looked down to see a red vine-like _thing_ retracting from his vein.  He reached for it in a panic, but Keith stopped him, holding fast.

 

“No!  Don’t.  It’s coming out now, but it’ll hurt you if you pull it.”

 

Shiro grit his teeth and breathed through the pain.  After a minute, it was gone.  As soon as it was out of him, Keith attacked it with his knife, cutting it to pieces before standing and crushing it.  Shiro turned his head and found a large bush of the same vines, all shredded and destroyed.

 

“What was that?”

 

“A Djinn plant.  Its thorns have venom that can knock people out, then it feeds on them.”  Shiro remembered getting a scratch on his neck as he went through the forest.  “Coran said it’d come out on its own if you woke up, but if I tried to force it out it’d shred your arm.”

 

“Good call.  I thought I might keep this one.”

 

As usual, Keith didn’t laugh at Shiro’s dark humor.  He looked pale.

 

“Are you hurt?” Shiro asked.

 

“What?  No.”  He sounded upset at Shiro for asking him that in Shiro’s present condition.

 

The Black Paladin looked back to the smithereens of the Djinn bush.  It was lying in a puddle of red; he wondered if that was its natural fluids or his own stolen blood.  He compared the size of the puddle to how crappy he felt and considered it likely.

 

“Does it cause dreams?”

 

“Yeah.  Coran said that once it’s got you, it emits hallucinogens to keep you docile.”

 

“Hm.”

 

 

.

 

 

Shiro laid on the floor beside Keith’s pilot seat as Red flew them back to the Castle.  He watched the other paladin from this odd angle and spent the time thinking.  He’d never told him.  Not the night of the party, not before the launch, not since he came back.  He wanted this boy so badly and here he was, right next to him, every day.

 

They landed in the hangar and Keith tried to help him up again, but moving made Shiro’s world tilt and his vision turn to static.  Keith called the others to bring a stretcher and sat down to wait with him.

 

“Sorry.  I’m…”  Shiro sighed.  He didn’t entirely know what he was anymore.  “A mess.  I’m kind of messed up all the time now.”

 

“Shiro…”

 

“Could you want someone who’s a permanent mess?”  He wasn’t sure if this was real bravery making him ask, or the near-death experience, or residual plant drugs.  He just had to know.

 

Keith retucked the blankets he’d put around Shiro to keep him warm for the flight.  “You’re the only one I could ever want.”  He spoke quietly, but there he was, exceeding Shiro in bravery too.  “I love you, Shiro.”

 

Shiro smiled.  He always thought he’d be the first to say it.  It wasn’t too late to say it now though, even after all this time.  “Keith, I love you.”

 

The younger man leaned down to kiss him.  It was soft, and brief, but so much better than his dream.


End file.
